Play My Song
by HalfBloodAlchemist-10
Summary: Three years after the world doesn't end, Dean and Castiel's life strikes tragedy once again. The ex-angel falls victim to a life threatening disease, and Dean must come to terms that a guardian angel can't always be there for you.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Play My Song

Rating: R

Pairing: Dean/Castiel

Genre: Angst, character death (non-canon), fallen!Castiel

Spoilers: none

Warnings: discussion of life threatening diseases, some unpleasant descriptions, swearing, possibly ideologically sensitive.

Word count: 15.219

Summary: Three years after the world doesn't end, Dean and Castiel's life strikes tragedy once again. The ex-angel falls victim to a life threatening disease, and Dean must come to terms that a guardian angel can't always be there for you.

A/N: "To Where You Are" belongs to Josh Groban, Castiel and Dean belong to Kripke, and my own twisted story comes from me. Who'da thunk? Anyway, this is a drama, a very sad drama. Please don't kill me for this, and if you cry, please forgive me. COMMENTS ARE LOVE!

* * *

"_Mr. Winchester…"_

"_Yeah Doc? How is he holding up?"_

"_We have him resting as of right now, Dean, but there is something I need to discuss with you…"_

"… _shoot."_

"_Dean, we did a full analysis of his condition, and it does not yield positive results."_

"_What the hell's that supposed to mean?"_

"_Please do not get defensive with me, Mr. Winchester. We're doing the best we can."_

"… _fine. Then what the hell's wrong with him?"_

"_Our test results reveal that he is suffering from advanced stages of pancreatic carcinoma."_

"…"

"_Dean… Castiel has cancer of the pancreas. We do not know what has caused this occurrence; he does not fall under standard criteria for a candidate, but we did a full check and determined that he has been suffering acute signs for almost six months."_

"_Is it… treatable?"_

"_Dean… this is what we need to discuss. Acute symptoms of this disease have been prominent for the past several months, but from what we can see of the spread of the disease, he's had this for nearly three years. He's well beyond the earliest stages of the disease progression. Had we have found this when he first contracted the illness, he would have had a chance for surgery."_

"_So that's it? You're just gonna let him get worse without even trying?"_

"_Dean there is nothing we can do for him. The cancer has spread from his pancreas to many of his other organs; there isn't even a reliable way to remove the mass without damage to anything vital."_

"… _how long?"_

"_At best, we give him six months to a year. We could try sending him to a cancer clinic out of state but there are no guarantees."_

"_He'd never do it. Being locked up like that."_

"_That is the only other option I can give you. I'll let you two discuss for yourselves, but at most all we could do is make him as comfortable as possible until then."_

"_Fine… can I go see him now?"_

"_Yes, he is awake at this time."_

"_Yeah ok…"_

"_Dean… I'm sorry. I really am."_

"_I'm sorry too…"_

_

* * *

_

It wasn't going to be any apocalyptic war that claimed him; an epic end to his life. It was probably one of the most humiliating, debilitating diseases he could contract. Dean couldn't believe that after all they had been through together; Castiel was going to die by one of nature's own curses. And it wasn't like there was any fucking thing they could do about it.

Pancreatic cancer. It wasn't any way for an ex-Angel of the Lord to die. Castiel deserved at best to die in battle, defending what he truly believed in. It was a cruel twist of fate that everything he had worked to defend, and then finally fell for, was going to kill him three years after his final sacrifice for humanity; for Dean.

Sam had mocked the two in good faith after the world didn't end, for becoming so sickeningly domestic. Of course, feelings for each other had grown noticeably between the two of them during the whole ordeal, and in the final battle with Lucifer, Castiel gave it his all, ultimately wasting away his grace and fell to humanity. But they had succeeded. They stopped the end of the world!

Of course it had taken a bit of time for Castiel to come to terms with the fact that he was no longer an angel; being cut off completely, fallen to humanity had weighed heavily on him, but the weight of the impending Apocalypse on their shoulders being gone meant that Dean could finally open up to Castiel and express his feelings; oh, what a relief it had been! The moment the words left his lips, he knew he had made the right choice, and the relief-washed kiss the ex-angel had swept him into sealed this promise in his heart.

Apocalypse averted, Lucifer sealed to the pit and the angels finally gone from their lives allowed them to breath, and with this promise of love between them, Castiel and Dean worked to make a life for themselves. They settled down together, Dean taught Cas everything he needed to know to fully assimilate into human society, they loved each other unconditionally… just as they dreamed they would.

Of course hunts were still present in their lives, but these became lesser cases that did not consume their day-to-day lives. Castiel found a job working for a library in the small town they settled in and Dean took up work at the local garage. Yes, it was sickeningly domestic, but it was everything they had wanted out of life, and they were more than pleased with this. Wake in the morning, go about their work days, reunite at home over meal, spend the evening together however they saw fit. Sometimes it was a movie, sometimes just an evening of inane conversation and idle time alone… but most of the time their evenings would end in their copulation before drifting off to sleep to await the next day.

One small aspect of interest that caught Castiel's attention was indeed music, but much to Dean's dismay, it wasn't the rock and roll of his own liking, but classical music. One day in the car found them with clear access to only one radio station; a classical mix station that had Dean seeing stars. Just as he had reached for the knob to turn off the radio, Cas' hand stayed his the moment a piano prelude caught his attention.

"Dean, wait…" he said, staring intently at the lighted face of the Impala's radio.

Dean tried his best to ignore the music at first, but the moment a young male's voice lilted from the speakers, he couldn't help but look over to his lover for confirmation. The look of utter relaxation and adoration that masked Cas' face was enough to melt even the heart of Dean, and he relaxed back into the leather seat and listened.

_Who can say for certain  
Maybe you__'__re still here  
I feel you all around me  
your memories so clear…_

_Deep in the stillness  
I can hear you speak  
you're still an inspiration_

_Can it be?  
That you are mine  
Forever love  
And you are watching over me from up above…_

It was then that Dean realized that there were tears in Castiel's eyes. The ex-angel 's eyes were glued to the road before them as he listened, trickles of sorrow running from those beautiful blue eyes that Dean loved so much.

"Cas?" He asked tentatively, turning the radio down. "Cas, what's wrong?"

Castiel responded with nothing more than a shake of his head, and he turned the knob back up, surreptitiously wiping the tears from his face with the sleeve of his hand-me-down hoodie and glancing out the side window without a word.

Dean never asked again why the song had touched Castiel so, but he had a pretty good idea. It reminded him of his old home. He had to admit, the man's voice was beautiful, nearly angelic, and he let it go without protest. On the day they dubbed as Castiel's birthday, Dean presented his lover with a brand new Josh Groban CD that song highlighted for him. Dean never forgot the look of gratitude on Castiel's face, and even grew to love that song as well as it played again and again within their home, the sounds of heaven filling the void in his heart that Dean knew he could never fully heal.

* * *

The day the symptoms began, the two had been out together, spending a Saturday afternoon at the park. Dean remembered it with bitter clarity. All the morning, Castiel had seemed a bit lethargic and not altogether his usual self. He had overslept, which was not like him at all, even on weekends, and he hardly touched a thing to eat besides a cup of lukewarm tea he had made for himself. Dean knew something was up when Cas didn't even think about playing the CD as he got ready for the day, and decided to try and cheer up his lover with a visit to the park.

"It's a nice day out, and you've been trapped indoors all week." He had replied to Cas' inquiry for their venture, smiling brightly at him. Castiel only replied with a shrug of the shoulders and resumed morning clean-up in the kitchen. After Dean finished his cup of coffee and a quick wash of the dishes, the two were on their way.

At the park, Dean and Cas spent their time simply taking a low paced stroll, watching the others around them; children at play, a man throwing a Frisbee for his dog, girls talking excitedly on their cell phones, general park behavior. But this time, Cas wasn't even paying attention. He simply stared at the ground as he walked, his fingers loosely twined with Dean's.

"Want an ice cream, Cas?" Dean asked, hoping to quell the funk his lover was in with his favorite treat. He frowned when Cas shook his head, looking up at him with dull eyes.

Dull eyes. This was entirely unusual. Cas' eyes always shone brightly, no matter the time of day. Dean had always boasted that his partner's eyes could light up the room he entered. But now they barely gleamed in the sunlight, the whites partially bloodshot. Dean finally began to get a connection. The listlessness, the blood shot eyes, the lack of appetite.

"You don't look so hot, Cas. You feeling ok?" Dean asked, pressing his fingers lightly to his forehead. The skin was slightly warm and clammy, and he bit his inner cheek worriedly. "You must be coming down with something. Let's just go home." Dean replied finally, wrapping an arm around Cas' shoulders.

Cas graciously nuzzled into his embrace, resting his fevered cheek again his shoulder as they walked. "Thank you Dean. I-I'm sorry I did not make the day as eventful as you had liked…" he apologized, looking a bit downtrodden for disappointing his lover.

"Hey, hey it's ok, Cas. You can't help when you're sick." Dean replied, kissing the top of his head as he steered him back to the car. Cas nodded slightly, wrapping his arm around Dean's waist, closing his eyes with a sigh.

Cas always hated being sick. It was one of the few human traits he despised, but then again no one liked being sick so it was understandable. Upon arrival, Dean opened the passenger door and gently deposited Cas into the seat before running his fingers through his hair and closing the door gently. He trotted over to the driver's side and climbed in, starting the car immediately.

As he drove home, he kept sending sidelong glances to Castiel, frown deepening in concern. Cas never got this sick so quickly, even in his fallen state; watching him press his forehead to the cool glass for any sort of comfort was disconcerting at best. "Don't worry, Cas we'll be home soon."

* * *

When the nausea and vomiting began, Dean played it off as a bad flu, secretly hoping it would pass soon. He would never admit it, but seeing Castiel so sick bothered him. It made him feel that there was something more he could be doing to help him. But for the moment, all he could do was be there for him and keep him as comfortable as possible to ward off the bug.

But it didn't pass. The illness stretched on for days, keeping the poor man bedridden almost around the clock. Dean called Castiel in sick from work, and he himself took off days to keep an eye on him. He tried every remedy he could think of, to no avail. Dry toast, tea, everything he made to try and keep Castiel nourished came up violently and frequently. Dean had an inane thought of Castiel sleeping in the bathroom at one point, but pushed it from his mind, annoyed with himself for such a careless thought. Cas needed him to pay attention, not joke around.

Now, Dean stood in the doorway of the bedroom, his hip resting against the frame as he watched the ex-angel toss and turn in fitful slumber. His dark hair was nearly black and ringing with sweat, plastered to his forehead as a flush ran across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

Dean swallowed hard, biting his lip. If this kept up… he didn't even want to think about it. But if Cas didn't start getting better soon, he was going to have to take him to get professional help.

As Dean watched the ex-angel sleeping, a thought occurred to him. Cas hadn't listened to his song in awhile… Smiling slightly, Dean strode silently across the room to the stereo and hit the play button, turning the volume down low as the CD within whirred to life.

As the first notes left the speakers quietly, Dean turned to find Castiel settling finally, a small contented sigh escaping him as he buried himself further into the blankets. Small victory on his side, Dean smiled and sat down on the edge of the bed. The hunter ran his fingers through the sweaty locks, cupping his cheek gently. The heat radiating from Cas was almost burning to the touch, but he was at least relieved to see that he was sleeping a bit more peacefully.

Cas moaned softly, nuzzling into the palm as he lay there. "Dean…" he mumbled, one cold hand reaching up to take Dean's.

The hunter smiled and threw caution to the wind, lying next to him to wrap protective arms around him. Cas drifted back to sleep, bareback pressed against Dean's chest as he settled into the warm embrace. As they lay together, Dean pressed a gentle kiss to the nape of Cas' neck, running soothing fingertips over his stomach and chest. "I got you, Cas…"

* * *

It was nearly a week before Castiel started showing any signs of recovery. Dean was a hair's breadth away from calling the hospital, when one day Cas opened his fevered eyes and sat up, albeit with some difficulty. "Dean?" he called in a rather raspy voice, the weeklong fit of nausea having rubbed his throat raw.

Within seconds, Dean was in the bedroom and by his side, running fingertips over his forehead. "Hey… h-hey you feeling any better?" he said tentatively, catching the break of worry in his voice.

Cas nodded, still looking a bit disoriented. "I think so…" he replied, trying to stand.

Dean immediately pushed him back into a sitting position. "No way, dude. You just spent a week barfing your guts up. I think you need to take a break."

"But what about work? I've been off of work for a week?" he asked, incredulous. He looked a bit ashamed at this revelation.

"Cas, I said don't worry about it. I called them and told them you were really sick. They were very understanding. I promise." Dean said firmly, wrapping his arms around Cas and cradling his head in the crook of his own neck. He smiled, feeling the tired yet satisfied kiss that Cas planted to his neck, and he threaded his fingers into the soft hairs. "Glad to see you're getting better…" he said finally, relief filling his heart. However, as he sat with Castiel, holding him gently, he couldn't help but feel a sort of nagging doubt in the back of his mind. Dean pushed it from his mind, just glad to have Castiel in his arms.

It became clear that Castiel never fully got over his weeklong plight. He never got over the lethargy, even weeks after the incident, and he still had bouts of weak nausea that caught him off guard once in awhile. But all in all, he was much more functional and went back to work a few days after his bout, although for the longest time, Dean called him on his breaks every day to check up on him.

It took almost three months for Dean to notice anything remotely different aside from Cas' lingering side effects. The first hint: Cas stopped taking a lunch with him to work. Granted, Cas didn't eat as much as the next person anyway, but he always ate at least fruit or some sort of confectionary before work and took a small sack lunch with him so he wouldn't have to spend money at the local deli. Perhaps the hunter thought the angel was on some sort of diet, but it didn't make sense to him. Cas wouldn't diet, he never had the need to, being as slight a person as he was. He made a mental note to talk to Sam about his influences on healthy eating over his boyfriend and left it at that.

Dean didn't understand why he didn't notice it before, but one day he watched Cas nearly throw up on the kitchen floor when Dean decided to make him a cup of coffee before he went to the library, and decided that maybe things weren't as well off as he thought. "Cas?" Dean yelped, wide eyed as he saw Cas gag violently at the smell of the coffee and ran from the room, a shaking hand clasped over his mouth.

Dean nearly dropped the mug in transit to placing it on the counter and dashed after him. But when no sounds of retching reached his ears, Dean slotted back into total confusion. Cas was leaning against the far way, his forehead pressed against the cool wall as he panted heavily, hand clasped over his abdomen. Dean took a tentative step forward, reaching out to touch Castiel's shoulder. "Cas? Cas are you ok?"

Castiel finally looked up, swallowing hard as he turned and looked at Dean. He gave him a weak smile, shaking his head. "I-I'm fine… I just… I won't be drinking any coffee for a long time…"

* * *

"I dunno what to tell you, man. You're just going to have to take him to the doctor and figure out what's wrong with him."

Dean looked up from the scoot board he was laying on, pulling himself out from under the Impala. He rubbed his face tiredly, subsequently wiping a smear of grease onto his cheek. "I know, Sammy. I've been trying to think of what the hell could be wrong with him, but… I dunno nothing's making sense. Its not the flu, because I highly fucking doubt a bug like that would last over five months."

Sam grinned slightly, rubbing his chin as he leaned unhelpfully against the side of the Impala. "Hey did you ever make him pee on the stick? Maybe he's pregnant." He joked, making a friendly jab at his older brother's sex life.

Dean held the wrench threateningly out at Sam, scowling. "I'll end you. I'm serious, Sam, I'll shove this wrench so far up your nose it'll kill you. Blood and death, my friend."

Sam laughed, crossing his arms. "Damn you're defensive. Alright, alright I'm sorry."

Dean sighed, sitting up to crack his spine briefly. "I know man it's just… I mean you saw him when you came in. He looks like death warmed over. I mean I walked in on him after he got out of a shower and I could see ribs. He's losing weight way too fucking fast; he doesn't eat anymore. Hell, I would have blamed you for making him try out a special diet if I didn't see him make a mad dash to the bathroom five minutes after he eats toast."

Sam sighs, nodding. "Well thanks for the vote of confidence." He shakes his head, looking down at Dean where he sat on the scoot board. "We'll figure this out, we always do." With that, Sam sat next to his older brother, resting the back of his head against the body of the Impala.

Dean turned to say something to Sam, when from inside the house, the two brothers heard the unmistakable sound of glass shattering. Dean jumped, staring in the direction of the garage door as Sam got to his feet. "What the fuck…"

Sam never saw Dean move so fast in his life. The older Winchester was on his feet in a matter of seconds and bolting for the door. He followed quickly, dashing for the source of the breaking glass.

The two brothers found the source, alright. The kitchen floor was littered with the shattered remains of two dinner plates, the glass strewn across the tile, and amongst the debris laid a horrifying sight.

"C-Cas?" Sam gasped, staring at the motionless form lying on the floor. Castiel lay on his side, his arms completely limp, lying amongst the broken glass. He had passed out in the middle of putting the dishes away, and from what the two brothers could see, he was barely breathing.

"Cas!" Dean yelped, running over and dropping down next to him. What he saw made him gag.

Puss colored bile and stringy coagulations of blood ran from the ex-angel's mouth, his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he twitched sporadically. Strangled choking sounds gurgled in the back of his throat and each slight cough brought forth another string of scarlet vitriol.

"Shit… Sammy call an ambulance NOW!" Dean yelled, reaching out to touch Cas.

"DON'T TURN HIM OVER! He'll choke on his own puke!" Sam yelled, whipping out his cell phone and punching in 911. He looked over his shoulder worriedly as he rattled off the information to the operator. "Hurry!" he yelled into the phone, hanging up and turning back to the sight before him.

Dean stared at the sight of his ill lover lying prone and semi-conscious on the floor in a puddle of vomit, wishing, God Dammit wishing there was one fucking thing he could do to help! He threaded his fingers into his hair in anxiety, panting in worry. His eyes roamed Castiel, taking in the sight.

Cas' skin had taken on a sickeningly yellow-gray tint that seemed far more horrifying in the kitchen lights, his hair was damp against his forehead yet again, the curls sticking randomly to his skin. He convulsed again in his unconsciousness, gagging on the bile. Dammit, where was the ambulance?

"Cas… Cas please…" Dean begged, palming his face in absolute terror. He rocked back, his shoulders hitting the cupboard as he leaned there, his eyes misting up as they glued to his prone lover's façade. "Cas please… stay with me, babe… please…"


	2. Chapter 2

PART TWO

"Fine… can I go see him now?"

"Yes, he is awake at this time."

"Yeah ok…"

"Dean… I'm sorry. I really am."

"I'm sorry too…"

Sam listened to the banter as he stared out of the waiting room window, chewing his lower lip fervently. The moment he heard the confirmation to go and see Castiel, he turned and nodded to the doctor, smiling slightly. The doctor –he believed his name was Chaiver- nodded to the younger Winchester before laying a hand on Dean's shoulder and leaving the room quickly.

Dean stared at the floor in front of him for a moment, before taking a shaky breath. Sam watched his older brother bury his face in his hands, his shoulders slumped in defeat. No matter how old anyone was, it was still a sight to behold, seeing one's older sibling, the one who was supposed to be so sure of life… look so lost.

Sam sat down next to Dean, rubbing soothing circles into his back, eyes locked on the sandy head next to him.

After a few moments, Dean finally looked up at Sam, his eyes wide with shock. "He's… God, Sam. He's going to die…" he managed to croak finally, voice breaking halfway through the sentence.

Sam sighed, pulling his older brother into a gentle hug. "I know, man… Dean. I'm sorry." He looked to the opposing wall, trying desperately to ward off his own frustrations for Dean's sake. Dean needed support right now, and if his own emotions got in the way, Sam wouldn't be able to forgive himself.

Dean took a quaky breath, resting his forehead in his palms. "I can't lose him…"

Sam stared at him for a moment, unsure of how to answer that statement. This was the first time he had heard Dean openly admit that he was scared of being alone; the first time he had admitted that he couldn't do this on his own. It was then Sam realized exactly how much in love his older brother was with what they still considered his angel.

"Dean… come on. He's probably waiting for you…" Sam managed to choke out.

A slight pause, and Dean was on his feet, striding over to the door. Sam followed, the both of them heading towards the room the hospital staff had deposited Castiel in.

The two brothers stopped right in front of the room, steeling themselves. The ward was filled with the stench of illness and despair, nearly crushing the two of them where they stood. Never in a million years did the two of them even think that Castiel would end up in a place such as this.

It was Sam who moved first. He reached out and turned the handle. The door swung open before them, and the younger Winchester looked to Dean. "Go on…"

Dean swallowed hard and entered the room, ready to see a frightening sight of machines, tubes and wires, hooking his lover up like some deranged, cancer stricken creation of Dr. Chaiver's. He was slightly relieved that that was not the sight that met him.

Castiel was lying on his side in the hospital bed; having been stripped from his soiled clothing, the pristine white blankets pulled up to his chest as he lay there. There were wires hooked up to him and IV's indeed, but nothing as horrifying as Dean had expected. He did not expect to see the oxygen line that fed life giving air, hooked up to Castiel's face, the sides of his nose slightly bruised where the nurses had run the line through his nostrils.

Dean shivered at the sight. This almost innocent scene made him sick with rage. To look at Castiel, one could hardly tell that a fatal disease was slowly ravaging his body, eating him away from the inside. Aside from the slightly yellowed skin, Castiel looked as if he mere dozed.

"Cas?" Dean said tentatively, walking over to the bed. He looked back at Sam, who waved him on, leaning his hip against the far counter to watch quietly. This wasn't his time. Dean needed every moment he could get with Castiel.

Cas stirred slightly, opening his eyes and looking up to the sound of his disturbance. He blinked slowly, eyes slightly dilated from the morphine drip the doctor had hooked him up to. "D-Dean…" he slurred, shifting slightly on the hospital bed. "I-I broke the dishes, I'm sorry."

Dean gave a half-hearted laugh, his heart wrenching in his chest. "Don't worry about it, they were ugly anyway…" he joked weakly, sitting down next to his partner. He reached out and took Cas' hand in his, running his thumb gently over the cold knuckles of his partner's hand.

They sat like that for the longest time, none of them saying a word. After a few awkward moments, Sam excused himself and left his older brother with his lover, striding out into the hallway to occupy himself .

Cas shifted again, moving to sit up. Dean sighed, reaching out to steady him as Cas turned over onto his back and sat up weakly. A terrible silence hung in the air between them, broken only by the meager beeps from heart monitors and drips.

Minutes crawled by, and finally the ex-angel turned his head drunkenly to look at Dean, his yellowed eyes shining in the fluorescent lighting. "Dean… I'm going to die aren't I?" He asked in such a pathetic voice, that Dean found himself swallowing his despair with difficulty, looking up at Cas.

"The doctor said that we could transfer you to a cancer clinic out of state." He offered unhelpfully, evading the response as best as he could. But the knowing look on his lover's face broke him, and he looked down at his feet with a quaking breath, nodding once. "If we move you, there's a better chance you'll survive…"

Cas' hand tightened around Dean's, causing the hunter to look up at him quizzically. There was a look of pure determination on Castiel's face that Dean recognized instantly. His old sense of pride was strong in his tired eyes, and Castiel shook his head.

"No Dean. I do not want to go to a clinic to live out the rest of my days. If I am going to die… I'd rather die in my own home, not amongst strangers."

Dean stared at Cas with utter adoration in his eyes. He smiled at Cas, his heart heavy. But this was no time for his own emotions. Castiel needed him to stay strong. With a sigh, Dean leaned over and kissed Cas gently, running his fingertips across the pale skin of his lover's face. "Ok Cas…"

* * *

Dean woke one morning, feeling groggy and strained. Another long night of restless sleep had Dean on edge once again. He sat up, rubbing his hands tiredly over his face before turning to look at the sleeping form of his lover, curled uncomfortably under the blankets next to him.

It had taken long hours of debate before Dr. Chaiver finally released Castiel from his care. He had been reluctant, at best, but finally swayed to the dying man's wishes. A few days after his admittance to the hospital, Chaiver released him from his care with a prescription and a promise on Dean's part that if Castiel's condition became unmanageable, he would return him to the hospital.

Dean swore to this and soon Castiel had signed the forms and was on his way. He had refused the proffered wheelchair and stumbled from the hospital, leaning heavily on Dean's side as they walked. He had still been heavily drugged on morphine, the painkillers warping his sense of balance and coherency. It became clear that even as a fallen angel, Cas did not take well to the drugs, but they became a necessary part of his day.

Chaiver had warned Dean about the pain, but it wasn't anything the hunter had expected. Abdominal pain was a constant in Castiel's life from then on, ranging anywhere from a dull ache to raging agony that had him bedridden for hours. The pains would wrack his abdomen and radiate to his back on his worst spells, nearly crippling him. Of course, Castiel had his good days and bad days. It was all part of their new life cycle, and Dean was determined to do what he could to help his lover before…

Dean shook his head violently, hurrying into the bathroom. He splashed ice cold water on his face, trying to ward of his now daily panic over Castiel's condition. Dean looked up at himself in the mirror, staring intently at the dark circles under his eyes. He looked weary, but his appearance was nothing compared to the ex-angel's.

Castiel grew gaunt and drawn, weight peeling off of him in an unnaturally quick pace. It was rare to find him voluntarily eating, but he managed to choke down the special diet Chaiver had ordered for him. It was bland, simple, but the only food he could really keep down at all. And even then, a week's supply would last the man nearly a month.

Dean shivered, thinking about the prone figure in the next room. Jaundice discolored the once pale, supple skin, his eyes a sickly shade. It was rather frightening to behold; every venture outside of the home that Castiel would partake in on his good days left people staring, giving the sick man a wide berth incase whatever illness he had was violently contagious. It made Dean sick with rage; how could people be so cold and cruel to a man who was clearly suffering? During these ventures, Dean always made sure to make it well known to the general public that no matter what, their opinion on a dying man didn't matter, PDA or not.

Shaking himself from this revere, Dean left the bathroom, padding quietly across the carpet to Cas' side of the bed. There, on the side table, lay the syringe and vile of prescription morphine. He would let Cas sleep as long as he needed to, but first he needed him to sit up.

"Cas… babe, come on. You need your meds…" he said quietly, gently shaking the ex-angel's shoulder. Cas groaned slightly in his sleep, shifting weakly. Dean sighed. "Come on, Cas. Just long enough for your shot then you can go back to sleep…"

Cas finally opened his eyes, blinking drowsily up at Dean. He shifted before slowing sitting up, wincing in pain that already throbbed in his stomach and mid back. Dean sighed. This was going to be one of Cas' bad days, he was sure of it.

Once he was seated upright, Cas sat quietly, his head hanging weakly as he shivered in pain. He made no movements, paying no attention as Dean unsheathed the new needle and fitted it to the syringe. Then Dean inserted the needle into the vile of morphine and drew the prescription amount before recapping the needle for now.

"Ok, Cas… arms up." Dean said to the half-dazed man, tugging on the bottom of Castiel's t-shirt. The ex-angel complied, raising his arms gently as Dean pull the shirt off of him. Depositing the soft cloth to the side, Dean reached up and ran gentle fingers over Castiel's chest, tugging gently at the bandage on his right side just below his collarbone. Underneath the massive white bandage was a small plastic tube with one end exposed and the rest fitted under his skin to the vein; having been surgically inserted into his body before he had been released, the catheter was a permanent part of Castiel's life now.

Catheter exposed, Dean then unsheathed the needle and inserted it into the open end, injecting Castiel's first dose. He winched, hearing Cas groan as the drugs flooded his system. "I know you hate this, Cas, but it's gotta be done…"

Cas didn't reply, merely nodded as Dean quickly replaced the bandage over the open ended catheter in his flesh and depositing the screw-top needle into the biohazard bin next to the bed. Job finished, Dean sat back on his haunches, smiling at the man with feigned reassurance.

"You wanna try and eat something?" Dean offered, placing his hands on Castiel's knees. The ex-angel simply shook his head, his eyes half-lidded and heavy. Dean sighed; of course he wouldn't.

"Alright. Well, Cas, you can go back to sleep now. I'll wake you up later, but when I do you have to try and eat something, ok?"

Cas nodded in response, curling back up underneath the blankets, shirtless. Dean sighed and leaned over, pressing a kiss to the exposed temple before running a gentle hand down Cas' back. Fingertips met raised bumps of his spine, and Dean sighed, tucking him back under the soft blankets gently. It was going to be a long day already. Good thing it was Saturday. He didn't really want to leave the man alone if he was going to be going through one of his bad spells that day.

Of course, the boss wasn't too keen on Dean's attendance of late. The hunter tried to keep it on the down low, but when his work day started shortening, and on certain occasions, called off completely, the manager of the garage was beginning to lose his patience.

Fuck him, Dean though, making his way silently to the kitchen. If he didn't care about what was going on in Dean's life, then he didn't care about his boss' temper either. Dean flipped the coffeepot on and reached for the refrigerator handle to pull out the egg carton, when something caught his eye. There was a box sitting next to the door that he didn't remember.

Making his way over as if the box held some sort of explosive, Dean picked it up gently and placed it on the table. He slashed the tape that was thrown haphazardly over the top, sealing it and pulled the flaps apart. He didn't expect what he saw.

Inside the box was a brand new digital camera, a healthy supply of memory cards and photo albums. Confused, Dean lifted the items from inside the box and noticed a small piece of paper taped to one of the photo books. The hand writing was unmistakable:

_Use these items wisely. They'll come in handy later, especially for you, Dean. And if Cas seems to be a little camera shy, then sneak the pictures; I know you have some stealth left in you. ;-)_

_Sammy_

Dean smiled, folding the paper and tucking it into the back of the photo album it had come from. "Sam, you sly dog, you…" he mumbled, grinning brightly. Leave it to Samantha to think of the terribly sentimental plans. But this time… Dean was grateful for his younger brother's soft heart.

He flipped the camera on and saw the very first picture on the review screen. It was a picture of the front of their house. Dean blinked, opening the album labeled "Book One" and saw that picture already printed out and fitted into the first slot.

Dean blinked hard, warding off the swell of emotions as he reached for a Sharpie, and uncapped it. His first entry in the book of Memories was labeled as such:

**Our First Home.**

**

* * *

**

As the months ticked by, the memory cards filled to the brim with each opportunity Dean had to snap a picture for his Memory book. Dean and Cas kissing (MySpace-esque, to be sure but Dean liked that one particularly). Cas sitting outside on the back porch in the sunset. Dean and Cas at the park (on one of his good days). The list grew with each passing day, the hunter documenting every moment he could.

One of Dean's particular favorites in the album was one of the photos snapped at the park. That particular day had gone very well for Castiel. After his morning dose, he had actually fared relatively well. He woke on his own and found Dean sitting in the kitchen staring at the wall absentmindedly. Castiel had snuck up behind him and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, careful not to bump the catheter in his chest and pressed a little kiss to the back of Dean's ear. "Dean. I'd like to go to the park today."

Dean was elated. He immediately abandoned his coffee and dressed quickly, happy to see Cas take an initiative and actually want to go out that day; even if it was only for a little while.

The drive was mostly uneventful, windows rolled down to allow the warm breeze inside the car. Dean thought it was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen, the slightly windswept black locks of his partner's hair framing his sickly face almost perfectly. He didn't care how grotesque others thought his sallow appearance was. Castiel was and always would be his shining angel.

At the park, the two sat by the pond together, fingers laced together in the grass as Castiel leaned his head against Dean's shoulder, smiling slightly. The sun's warmth spread over his cold skin, making him feel better than he had in a long time… even if it was only temporary.

Dean's joy grew when the proffered ice cream by the park vendor was accepted by Castiel. Dean took his own cone and nibbled quietly, watching Castiel happily as the ex-angel savored the taste of the cold ice cream. He wasn't sure if it would make him sick later, but it must have been a step in the right direction.

After a few slow bites, Castiel had had enough and offered the remainder of his chocolate treat to Dean, licking the sticky residue from his fingers. "I shall miss this…" he said quietly, making the knot growing in Dean's stomach wrench painfully.

Before the waterworks could form, however, a curious thing happened. A small grey squirrel that was hardly bigger than Dean's hand approached the two of them, sitting on its haunches as it chattered quietly to them head cocked in a very Castiel-esque manner. The ex-angel smiled and took the empty cone from his confused lover and began breaking pieces of soggy shell off in his hand.

Clicking his tongue slightly, Castiel urged the squirrel closer, smiling slightly. When the squirrel finally made contact, the little creature took a piece of cone in his hand tentatively and nibbled before its tail flicked happily at the sugary taste. It then ate graciously from Cas' hand, tail tickling the soft flesh of the man's under-wrist, making him chuckle slightly.

It was amazing. Dean immediately whipped out the camera and snapped some photos of this event, knowing exactly where it would go in the Memory book. "Wow, Cas. That squirrel really likes you." He laughed, watching the glowing expression on Castiel's face practically light up the area.

Cas nodded, looking up at Dean with a rare grin on his face as the squirrel finally finished its treat and scampered off. Dropping his hand to the side, he leaned back against Dean, nuzzling into his arms quietly.

Dean couldn't help the thoughts that ran through his mind then. Even during such a hard time for the two of them, small miracles were present, and Dean welcomed them happily. For the briefest of times, life was perfect again.


	3. Chapter 3

PART THREE

Not two weeks after the incident at the park, Castiel's condition began to worsen at a slightly accelerated pace. It became clear that the maximum the doctor had predicted wasn't feasible, even now as the ex-angel's waning energy slowed him daily.

"Good days" were few and far between now, most of Castiel's hours confined to the bedroom. Even the morphine shot did little to quell the ache that wracked his body; yet never once did the ex-angel complain.

Never wanting to be a burden to Dean, he kept his discomfort to himself, his only indications of pain were his pupil blown eyes. Every morning was the same: Dean woke and gave Castiel the shot in a futile attempt to give him some sort of comfort, and wait.

It was like pulling teeth to get him to swallow even a morsel at this point, the frustration of the whole situation eating away at both of their dispositions. But Dean never lost his temper, nor did Castiel grow defiant. There was a mutual understanding between them and each new trial in their daily lives reminded them how much they loved and needed each other, right up to the end. So Dean would wait… wait until Castiel was ready. In every sense of the word.

Sam and Bobby sat on the opposing side of the table, staring at the forlorn man that was once Dean Winchester. Sam chewed his lower lip feverishly, while Bobby fingered the pages of a notebook in front of him. After several longs minutes of silence, it was the eldest hunter who spoke first.

"Dean… we think we mighta uh… figured out why Cas got himself so sick." Bobby offered, watching as Dean's head snapped upright, staring at the both of them.

"You figured it out? Is there a way to fix it? Reverse it?" Dean demanded, his hands fisting on the table in front of him.

Sam winced, looking to Bobby for help. None came. "No Dean there's… there's nothing we can do to help him. But…" he sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "You remember Famine, right?"

The look Dean shot his younger brother spoke volumes. Of course he remembered Famine… Famine and Castiel's sudden addiction to processed red meat. It was a disgusting thought, remembering Castiel's ravenous face as he devoured unthinkable amounts of food.

Sam continued, pulling the notebook in front of him. "We did some research on how people might get pancreatic cancer, and we sought some professional help on the Famine issue, and well… they match up pretty good."

Dean looked in between the two hunters in front of him, a slow, dawning realization masking his anger. "Famine gave him the cancer?"

Bobby shook his head, looking down at the table. "Well no, he didn't actually give him the cancer, but he really opened the door for it to happen. The spell that he placed affected Castiel in such a way that his body demanded more and more, when really his vitals were suffering the consequences. He… he practically ate himself to death."

Dean's fists tightened to white knuckles, crescent duvets in his palms bleeding slightly. "Fuck…" he breathed, his emotions a whirlwind in his mind. "… And there's nothing we can do about it… Goddammit…."

Sammy sighed, looking up at his older brother almost pleadingly. "Dean… I'm so sorry…"

Dean held up a hand to him, lurching to his feet. He stalked over to the other side of the room but didn't even make it through the doorway; he lost the will to even try. He stopped, his forehead thumping against the wooden frame with a hollow sound. Silence once again pervaded the room.

Bobby for once had no words to say. For once in his old life, he had no advice for his distraught pseudo-son. He reached up and pulled his baseball cap off, running his fingers through his hair with a sigh.

Like a switch, a thought occurred to him. "Dean… boy, didja give the man his last wish?" he asked suddenly, looking up at Dean. He knew it was a rather point-blank question to ask in a situation like this, but for some reason it felt like it was the most necessary thing to take care of. If Castiel's condition was really failing as quickly as they thought…

Dean looked up at Bobby with a blank expression, blinking slowly. "Last wish?" That thought hadn't even occurred to him. Dean wanted to kick himself for that lack of consideration. Castiel deserved his final wishes; more than anyone else in fact. Of course the real question became: what would an ex-Angel of the Lord want out of life, after falling into the lesser standards of humanity from his ethereal persona?

Suddenly it became extremely imperative that Dean speak to Cas like five minutes ago; he nodded to the other two before making a beeline for their bedroom. Dean made it to the room and moved to open the door, when he thought of something. What if Cas was sleeping? This was important, to be sure, but waking him usually meant unnecessary pain from being jolted awake.

Luckily, Cas was already awake, reading a book quietly to himself. He didn't even look up when Dean appeared in the doorway, only taking notice when his lover cleared his throat quietly. Cas looked up and smiled at Dean, putting the book down. "Yes, Dean? What is it?"

The hunter smiled slightly at his partner, padding across the carpet and sitting on the edge of the bed. He sighed and pulled Castiel over to himself gently, tucking the smaller man into his embrace. The two of them sat like this for awhile, neither of them speaking; merely enjoying being in each other's arms.

"Cas…" Dean finally broke the silence, his mouth muffled by Castiel's hair. "Being totally honest with me… is there anything you want? I mean… anything you want to do?" he asked, vaguely. He still didn't like admitting Castiel's fate out loud. Maybe Cas would understand…

Cas smiled up at Dean, turning his head slightly. "What could I possibly want, Dean? I have you, that is all I need."

Cliché. Dean shook his head, looking into the slightly yellowed blues before him. "No I mean… Cas is there anywhere you want to go… anywhere you want to see one last time?" He winched at his own words, grimacing at the bitter taste of dread they left in his mouth.

Now Castiel understood. He stared at Dean for a moment, before looking away. His eyes bore into the far wall, expressionless. He remained quiet long enough for Dean to think he wouldn't respond, but then he sighed, turning to face Dean. "There is one place… I-I…" he paused, looking down at his pale hands. "There is a place that I was present at… during its creation, so many years ago. If there is any one place I want to see, it is there."

Dean nodded, smiling at Castiel. "Ok, shoot. Where is it?"

Cas looks up at Dean, his eyes shining. "The Redwoods. I have always had a special connection with the trees, and they are the most magnificent I have ever seen, aside from the Giant Sequoia. I would like to see the Redwood Forests one more time."

Dean stared at him, mouth slightly agape. He had expected Cas to pick someplace a little more… local. "Cas… Cas that's a hell of a road trip. Driving from Sioux Falls to California, are you sure you could handle that?"

Cas nodded. "I would be alright, Dean. But it is not that matter that I am concerned about. I wish to go with you, but you cannot miss any more hours at the garage. It is silly to think that this trip would be…"

Dean cut him off with a kiss, threading his fingers into the messy dark mop of his lover. When they pulled apart again, Dean smiled brightly, leaning his forehead against the fevered skin of the ex-angel's own forehead. "Cas… forget about me. This is for you. Of course, I'll go with you; I wouldn't miss it for the world. And the garage can survive without me for a week. I promise."

Cas stared hard into his eyes, trying to read them. After a few moments of deliberation, he sighed and nodded. "Alright… t-thank you Dean." He whispered, pressing a chaste kiss to Dean's cheek.

Dean smiled, rubbing a thumb over Castiel's stubbled jaw in soothing circles. "No problem…"

* * *

It turned to be a big problem at the garage. The moment Dean put in for a week's leave, his boss, Dave Hermin, came raging from his office, demanding he speak with Dean immediately. Dean groaned, leaving his duty and stalking to the office.

The moment, the door closed, Dean was barraged with shouts and insults, jeers and non-believing words from the manager of the garage. With each slur and ridicule Dave threw out at Dean, Dean's fingers gripped the hem of his uniform shirt tighter, until the minute sounds of ripping fabric filled the gaps between Dave's words.

Dave glared at Dean, pounding a fist on the desk. "Dean you cannot take another week off of work just to go on vacation with your little "boyfriend"!" Dave jeered, air-quoting the word in mock sincerity. That got Dean.

"Look, Dave." He snarled, palming the desk as he leaned in menacingly. "Cas is DYING, man. Dying of fucking cancer… I'm not giving up an opportunity to spend his last days with him in a place he specifically requested to see before he dies! And what's it to you if we're dating? S'not like we're fucking right here on your desk, like you've reserved for the receptionist!"

Dave blustered, glaring at Dean. "You're impossible, Winchester. If you go on this trip, don't expect to come back to a job!" the boss spat, grinning triumphantly.

But Dean wasn't finished yet. He sneered back across the desk at Dave, before ripping his nametag and uniform shirt off, leaving himself in only his undershirt and jeans. "That's gonna be kinda hard for you to fire me, Dave, because I quit! And since you're no longer my boss, I can say anything I want. So there, I'm going to California with my DYING BOYFRIEND and you can go fuck yourself!" And with that, Dean slammed his way out of the office, marching over to his station to grab his bag.

He froze halfway there. The whole garage was staring at him, customers and workers alike. Apparently Dave's office wasn't soundproof. But just as Dean cleared his throat to tell them off for nosing in on his business, a cheer rose up from everyone gathered. A woman of sentimental heart dabbed at her eyes, congratulating Dean on his devotion to his dying lover, as two other workers brought his things to him, slapping him good-naturedly on the back.

Dean smirked, shouldering the bag as he strode from the garage. Never let it be forgotten that Dean Winchester's obstinacy finally paid off.

* * *

"Ok are you sure you have everything, Dean? Maps, toll money, suite reservations?" Sam rattled on, ticking off a list in front of his face as he and his brother walked out to the car.

Dean rolled his eyes, smirking at Sam. "Yes, mom, I have everything I need. I checked over everything three times last night. And before you ask, I called the suites and asked them about admittance to the park and they said we pick them up there. It goes with the package."

Sam nodded, checking that off the list. "What about Cas' medication?"

Dean patted a small pack on his hip, feeling the vials and syringe nestled inside. "Right here."

Sam smiled, finally putting the notepad away, and nodding to Dean. "Just… be careful alright? 1900 miles… that's a hell of a long way for Cas… it's a long way for you too. Stop halfway or… or make pit stops."

Dean looked at his brother for a moment. Sam really cared. He bit his lip in repressed emotion, nodding to Sam as the younger Winchester hugged him gently. "Thanks, Sammy… for everything."

* * *

Dean pulled the Impala into a rest stop, parking in one of the many open spots in the lot. The radio face read 12:32 am; it had been a long, hard day of driving, and he was exhausted. Dean rubbed his eyes tiredly, glancing over at Castiel. The poor man was curled up in the seat uncomfortably, shivering slightly. It wasn't cold in the car.

"Cas?" Dean mumbled, reaching over and running his fingers down the side of Cas' arm to wake him gently.

Cas stirred awake with a jolt, groaning from the painful shock to his system. Dean winced at the sudden waking, jerking his hand back.

"Sorry! Sorry it's just…" he sighed, stifling a yawn surreptitiously. "Babe, are you hurting at all? You're past due for a shot…"

Normally, Castiel would never admit to his discomfort, especially since Dean was taking his time and energy to drive him all the way to California and back; Cas didn't want to admit that he was feeling uncomfortable, since he was just sitting there… but boy, was he in pain. Blushing heavily, he nodded, face twisted up in discomfort. "Y-yes… I am actually…"

Dean sprang from the driver's side door, making his way around the front as he unzipped the pack on his hip. He opened Cas' door and knelt down next to him, prepping the syringe quickly. But just as he reached up to remove the shirt and bandage, Cas' hand stopped him.

"I need to get out of the car…" Cas mumbled slightly, his head propped against the headrest.

Dean smiled slightly, offering a hand-up. "Come on, up you get…" he muttered quietly, helping Castiel to his feet.

Cas leaned back against the side of the car, groaning softly. He felt Dean's fluid motions, lifting the shirt, removing the bandage and the sudden wash of drugs in his system that he despised so much. But despite his contempt for the morphine, he couldn't deny the almost instantaneous relief it provided for him, no matter how small. The drugs itself turned his gut turning agony to a dull throb that he could stand while riding in the car. Cas opened his eyes again, smiling down at Dean as the other man worked gently to bandage the catheter again. "Thank you Dean…"

Dean smiled up at him, tugging the hem of his lover's t-shirt back down before leaning in to press a kiss to his forehead. "No worries, Cas." He whispered, wrapping his arms around him to cradle him gently.

Cas smiled and nuzzled into the embrace, sighing. "Dean, I promise you, you will love the redwoods. They're just beautiful."

Dean smiled, kissing him slightly. "If I'm there with you, of course I'll love them."

Dean had no idea how right Castiel was. After another day of travel, the two had finally arrived in Ferndale California, pulling up to the estate they were staying in. "Redwood Suites. I thought it was fitting…" Dean smirked over at Cas, who returned the smile, crawling painfully from the car.

The town was quaint, hearkening back to colonial days. The people were incredibly friendly, and unlike those in Sioux Falls, they didn't seem to take notice to Castiel's sickly appearance, and simply welcomed the visitors to their town.

Upon check-in, the girl at the counter handed the two men their park passes, and with a wink, handed them the room key. "Park's open still if you want to check it out before you settle in your room for the night. There's a map with the passes, although it's pretty straight forward shot down the highway. Take you twenty minutes to get there."

Dean looked at Cas, smiling. "You wanna see them now or wait?"

Cas shrugged slightly, wincing from the catheter pulling in his skin. "Whichever you wish, Dean." He said obediently, smiling.

Twenty minutes later, Dean pulled up to the park gate, flashing the passes to the guard who stamped them. "Good for the week, gentlemen. Enjoy your visit!"

Dean wasn't even paying attention. He was too busy staring at the sight of the park laid before them, the trees larger than he had ever seen in his life. "Whoa…" he breathed, driving into the park. "Cas… these are redwoods?"

Cas smiled, staring at the sight all around them. "These are the saplings… the larger trees are deeper into the park."

Dean's head whipped around to stare in shock. "They get bigger than this?"

At this exclamation, Cas laughed, literally laughed out loud, the sound making Dean's heart flutter happily in his chest. "I told you, you'd like it here."

* * *

The week came to an end all too soon for the couple. Dean woke on their final day in Ferndale, feeling a sort of disappointment in his heart. After this day, they would drive back to Sioux Falls… and their little "honeymoon" reprieve would be over before reality of Castiel's condition set back in.

Dean hadn't seen Castiel look this happy in months, and Dean couldn't help but thank whatever force out there had allowed this trip to pan out as they had hoped it would. Castiel had been right, indeed. Dean loved the redwoods as much as he did, the two of them spending almost every day in the park, walking the trails, enjoying the scenery. It was stunning.

Dean took every photo opportunity he had, even asking passers-by if they could take photos of the two of them at random points in the park. He didn't want to miss a moment of this week. And every night after dinner, the two would crawl into their suite bed and Castiel would fall asleep on Dean's chest, the two of them reveling in the earthy smells of the park that still stained their hair and skin.

Dean didn't want to admit it to Cas, but every night he thumbed through the pictures of that day, taking them in as his ex-angel slept by his side… and on more than one occasion had to stop himself before his tears came. He didn't want to think about the inevitable future, but with each passing of another perfect day, it only served to remind him that they were one day closer to his losing Castiel.

Even now, the two of them looked rather forlorn as they checked out of their suite, taking the receipt from the girl. But just as they were about to leave, the receptionist spoke up, seeing the saddened look in Dean's eyes.

"The passes are still good for today, if you want." She offered, smiling gently at them.

Dean looked up at Cas, hopefully eyes mirroring the others. "Thank you." He said, smiling at the receptionist as they left the lobby, bee lining for the car.

As they pulled into the park one last time, the guard looked up from his post and waved happily to them. "Last day in the park, eh? You two fine gentlemen enjoy your day now!" he said cheerily, stamping their passes on the last slot and allowing them into the park.

Dean drove on, the two rolling their windows down to let the cool California air breeze into the car. "So, is there any specific spot you want to see before we head home?" Dean asked casually, not wanting to look at Castiel.

Cas shook his head, when a sign caught his attention as they drove. "Dean, pull in here." He said, pointing. Dean obliged, parking in the specified lot.

As they clambered from the car, Dean looked at the trail sign and grimaced. "I dunno, Cas, this is one of the harder trails to walk… are you sure you can handle it?"

Cas glanced up at him, a weak smile on his face. "This leads to one of the swimming grottos… I know it's too cold to swim, but the receptionist at the suites showed me a picture of the grotto, and it's absolutely beautiful. If you don't want to…"

Dean shook his head, taking Castiel's hand in his. "No, I want to. I'm just…" he sighed, looking down at his feet. "I'm just worried about you…"

Cas smiled and nuzzled into his arms, pressing a kiss to the side of Dean's neck. "I'm alright, I promise. If I get tired, I'll let you carry me though." He added, smirking. This earned him a playful thump on the backside as they headed towards the mouth of the trail.

"Wait!" Dean paused, turning back to the car. He ran back and grabbed the camera, and a blue zipper hoodie from the trunk. "It's too cold for you to just wear a shirt, Cas. Besides, I want photographic proof that this grotto is as beautiful as she says it is."

Cas smiles and takes the blue hoodie without complaint, slipping it on. He pushed the sleeves up to his elbows and left the front open to expose his faded grey shirt. He took Dean's hand again, the two walking the trail, quietly. Boot treads broke the uneven landscape as they trudged their way, taking in the sights of the forest about them. It was like one of those scenes out of a movie; the way the light filtered in through the trees, the birds chirping, and the sounds of the forest adding to their walk. It was breathtaking. Even their footfalls sounded natural in this place.

But Dean had been right; the hike turned out to be a bit much for Castiel as the hills made the panting man's climb more difficult than normal. He refused help however, steeling himself as he forced his way up the hills, feeling Dean's supporting hand on his back.

The trail itself was beautiful, but Dean didn't expect to see what he saw in the grotto. "Wow…" he breathed, eyes wide in shock.

The water stretched before them in a small canyon, either sides of the pristine basin lined with the redwoods. The water was impossibly blue, sandy shores lapped and pebbled and in the distance, the foggy shapes of mountainous trees lined the horizon. The sun shone on the water like crystals, the whole canyon practically glowing in the sunlight.

Cas and Dean stared at the sight before them, awestruck. Cas smiled suddenly, laughing quietly. "I remember this canyon… I remember when it was created…."

Dean only nodded dumbly, grabbing the camera with shaking hands. He raised it before him to take the photo but paused. "Cas… stand by the ledge… I want to get you in this shot."

Castiel obliged, and a few moments later, Dean waved him over to look at the image. There was the beautiful landscape, shining behind Castiel where he stood. Even his faded hoodie and t-shirt, dark jeans and boots looked beautiful on him as he stood before the canyon, forever immortalized in the picture.

Cas smiled up at Dean as the two sat on the ledge of High Rock, feet dangling lazily as they watched the scenery before them. Cas twiddled his fingers into Dean's as they sat with their palms pressed to the stone.

A thought needled its way into Dean's mind as they sat there, watching the sun make its way through the sky. It was something Castiel had said… about remembering everything. He wasn't sure if he should ask but… it felt necessary.

"Cas… you… You think they'll l-let you back? I mean…" Dean froze, seeing the look cross Castiel's face. It was a look that he never wanted to see on his face again: hopelessness.

"… I don't know…" Castiel finally said, his face falling with dejection. It was quite doubtful and he knew it…

Dean watched his lover's disposition falter at the thought, and he cursed himself for bringing it up. Looking down at his own hands in his lap, he paused.

Reaching out, Dean grabbed Castiel's hand and pulled it closer to him. He then slipped something off of his own wrist and onto Castiel's. The ex-angel looked down to see the red prayer beads encircling his wrist. "Dean?"

The hunter smiled at Cas, leaning in to kiss him softly. "I want you to have those." He whispered, cupping the back of Castiel's neck as he kissed him. Castiel smiled slightly, giving way to the probing kiss as his lover gently pressed him back against the rock they were seated on.

Making sure not to press on the catheter, Dean leaned over the now prone Castiel, running his hand underneath the unzipped hoodie to graze his chest gently, lips locked in a firm but slow kiss. Essence of illness tainted the flavor of his partner's kiss, the medication leaving a tinny aftertaste. Dean ignored this, just grateful to be with his partner in such a beautiful place, right where Castiel wanted to be in his arms.

The ex-angel looked up at Dean with bright, fevered eyes, his yellow pale cheeks flushed slightly from the intensity of their kiss. "I love you, Dean… thank you for everything." His voice cracked husky from their kiss, a coy smile on his pale lips.

This time, Dean did nothing to hide his tears from his lover as he nodded to him, returning to the kiss as if it would never end. "I love you too, Cas."

Their trip home still loomed before the two, but it didn't matter. They were simply Dean and Castiel, a desperate couple making communion under the sun for the final wishes of a dying soul.


	4. Chapter 4

PART FOUR

Dean sat up in the kitchen, staring at the wall with wide, almost frightened eyes. He clutched a bottle of beer tightly in his shaking hands, not even bothering to take a sip of the room temperature alcohol. Across the table sat his brother, looking through the pictures they had taken in Ferndale in a desperate attempt to keep his mind occupied.

The trip itself had been a wonderful experience. The drive home was a nightmare. Dean still cursed himself; even days after they had finally arrived home, that he had not opted to fly the distance. Forcing Castiel to drive the whole way there and back had turned out to be a very bad idea. While Castiel had fared semi-well on the drive out, it seemed that a week in Ferndale had not undone the damage from the long drive.

Halfway home, Dean had turned to say something to Castiel, when he saw him leaned against the door, forehead pressed firmly against the glass. He initially thought he was sleeping, until he noticed his shoulders quaking. Hitching. A cold fist of dread gripped his stomach as he immediately lurched over to the shoulder, slamming the car into park before turning to Castiel. "Cas? Cas, what's wrong?"

Dean reached out, touching his shoulder gently to turn him. His heart dropped into his stomach the moment he saw his face.

Castiel's face was completely drained of color, the yellow tinge of jaundice almost indiscernible against the ashen color. Dean never saw Castiel openly cry; he was sobbing. "D-Dean…" he croaked, curling in on himself, as another spasm of agony wracked his body, tears streaming down his pain-contorted face. "Dean… I-I… it hurts…"

Dean glanced down at the clock, eyes widening slightly. He had completely forgotten Castiel's dose at the last pit stop they had taken. "Shit!" he hissed, leaping out of the car and tearing around to the other side. His hand dropped down to his side to fetch the pack of syringe and vials… and found an empty space on the belt loop.

Dean's blood turned to ice in his veins, as his eyes dropped down to his hip. The pouch was gone. "Fuck… no no no!" he begged, running back and ripping the trunk open. He dug his backpack out, vaguely remembering having taken the backpack in with him to the rest stop. Riffling through the bag, he came up short, rage at himself and terror throbbing in his chest. "No, please where is it?" he begged, digging desperately.

The pouch was nowhere to be found. Dean slammed the trunk shut in aggravation, fisting his hair. He wanted to scream. How could he fucking lose the pouch? After a moment, Dean composed his self-loathing enough to walk stiffly back to Cas' door.

Opening it silently, Dean caught the limp man in his arms, holding him close against his chest. Castiel curled into his embrace, burying his face in the side of his neck, as his own hands clutched desperately at his abdomen. He gripped his stomach as if to alleviate the pressure, the ripping, throbbing ache that ran around to his back, yielding his legs useless from the fired nerve endings in his spine. "Cas I'm so sorry… I-I can't find the pouch…"

Cas shakes his head slightly, quaking a heavy breath as he tried to calm his own pain. It did little good as he seized up again, coughing painfully.

Dean shifted his grip, lifting the sickly thin man into his arms easily. He moved Cas to the back seat of the Impala, laying him down gently along the back seat. "Hang on, I'm gonna try and find you something to help with the pain…" he said quietly, watching desperately as Castiel curled into a tight ball in the back seat, moaning.

It was a long distance from the middle of bumfuck Wyoming to Sioux Falls.

* * *

By the time Dean got Castiel back to Sioux Falls, there was no point in even trying to get a new prescription of morphine. The pain was so excruciating, it rendered Cas almost completely unconscious. The only signs that he wasn't completely comatose were his varied whimpers of pain, twitches, and his occasional lapses of consciousness, which never lasted long anyway.

As Dean had pulled into Sioux Falls, he had called Sam desperately, begging him to be at the house when he got there. Sure enough, the moment Dean pulled into the drive, Sam came running out and easily lifted the small man from the backseat, rushing him into the house as Dean dialed Dr. Chaiver's number, begging for help.

Chaiver had immediately called in for a new prescription, but strangely enough, when Dean explained the situation to him, he didn't suggest that Dean bring him into the hospital. In retrospect, perhaps Chaiver knew it wouldn't matter anyway.

Now, several days later Dean and Sam sat at the kitchen table, mulling over the events of the past few days. Sam looked up at Dean, seeing the look of self-hate on his older brother's face and sighed. "Dean look.. It's not your fault he took a turn for the worse…"

"BULLSHIT, SAMMY!" Dean yelled, slamming the beer bottle down on the table hard enough to break it. "It was me who lost the pouch. It was me who decided to fucking DRIVE him to California instead of flying like a normal person would! It's my fault!"

"DEAN! Stop it!" Sam yelled over his older brother, standing up menacingly. "You made a mistake, I realize that. But you can't keep blaming yourself for everything. Did Cas even tell you that he didn't want to fly either? He said it reminded him of his old form and he couldn't handle the reminder for two hours both ways, alright? STOP BLAMING YOURSELF."

Dean stared at his brother, his breath slowing in his chest. He slumped back into his seat, forehead connecting with the table top. "I don't know what to do…" he moaned, clasping the back of his head in despair.

Sam softened, sitting down next to Dean as he put a hand on his back. They both knew it was only a matter of time now. "Just be there for him…"

* * *

Dean walked inside the house to hear music playing softly in the background. He frowned, making his way towards the source. It was indeed The Song, but last he knew Castiel had fallen into another spell and the CD was in the living room…

Dean walked into the living room to see Castiel kneeling in front of the speakers, doubled up weakly in front of the stereo, almost in mock-prayer. The hunter froze, staring at him. "Cas?"

Castiel looked up at him, sitting upright slowly. His eyes were almost glassy, but a weak smile danced at the corners of his mouth. "Hello, Dean… it's lovely isn't it?"

Dean took a tentative step closer to him, dropping down to one knee next to him. "What's lovely, Cas?"

"The music… it's so…" he started, waving his hand halfheartedly in front of him.

Dean smiled, sitting next to Castiel. "You do like this song a lot… you remember how you first heard it right?"

Cas nodded slowly, eyes half lidded as he listened to the music, reaching out to touch Dean's hand. "Dean… I'd… I'd like to go outside. It's a nice day out…"

Dean nodded, helping the weak man to his feet. He held onto him gently as they slowly walked out to the back yard. There in the middle of the lawn stood a medium sized tree, the leaves catching the golden sunset in a tie-dye of green and gold. The clouds off in the horizon glowed fuchsia, wisps of darker lavender and navy spilling away into the sky as the sun made its way.

Dean stared at the sight of the beautiful sunset, one arm wrapped gently around Castiel's waist. A gentle breeze tousled their hair, the sides of Castiel's blue zip-up billowing slightly. Dean briefly wondered how Castiel had gotten himself dressed… or even why.

"You wanted to smite the radio." Castiel said suddenly, his voice cracking halfway. The waning sunlight bathed his pale face in the golden colors of its descent.

Dean looked down at him, confused. "I, what?"

"The radio. You wanted to smite it when that song came on…" the ex-angel replied, leaning rather heavily against Dean's side.

Dean chuckled slightly, holding onto his lover. "Hang on, let's get you seated…" he said, helping Castiel down to the ground at the base of the tree. Nestled against the trunk, Dean pulled his partner up close, chest to back, as if the two couldn't get enough of each other. "Yeah I didn't like it right away. But I like it now. A lot."

Castiel smiled slightly. "I-I… I'm also very.. very happy that we went to California. I'm glad I could share the time with you amongst the redwoods." He whispered, head leaned back against Dean's shoulder.

The hunter swallowed hard, memories flooding forth in his mind, the knowledge of the imminent future bearing down. "… I'm glad I could take you…"

Castiel smiled again, eyes heavily lidded. He shivered once before going still in his arms. "I'll… I'll miss it all… I will miss you Dean… but I will always love you…"

Dean looked down at the dying man in his arms, noting the husky voice as Castiel seemed to be fading right from his arms. Realization gripped him as he shifted, blood pounding in his ears. "… do you hurt?" he whispered, fearing the answer.

"… I don't feel much of anything…"

Dean's heart clamped in his chest. He gently turned Castiel around to face him, pulling him fully into his lap. "Cas…?"

Castiel opened his eyes a bit, looking into Deans own green orbs. That rare smile lit his dying face in the sunlight, as he reached up, running his fingers down the side of Dean's face. "I hope you finish your memory book…"

Dean choked slightly, biting his lip as he felt tears well in his eyes. "I will." He managed to say. He cupped Castiel's face in his hands, staring into his fading eyes. "Stay with me… please…" he begged, shaking slightly. "I-I don't want to lose you…"

Cas leaned into his touches, a small laugh catching in the back of his throat. "… I'm alright." He said suddenly, his voice barely above a whisper. He leaned in slightly, his weight growing heavy against Dean. "Dean… play my song…"

Dean nodded, understanding, although he didn't want to agree. Hell, he didn't want this! If he could keep Castiel from dying, no matter how, he'd do it.

Suddenly, the need became too much. He pulled Castiel into a fierce kiss, hands gripping him firmly, fingers touching everywhere he could, cataloguing, and remembering everything. "Please don't leave me… stay with me! I need you, Castiel!" he gasped, fighting it. _Please, God now NOW!_

Castiel breathed into the touches, forehead pressed against Dean's. "I won't leave you… I'm here… I'll always be here…" he said, pressing his hand to Dean's heart. The prayer beads glistened gently in the sunset.

Dean shook his head, holding him desperately, as if he could keep Cas' soul tethered to his body if he just held on long enough. "I need you… I love you…"

Cas smiled, pressing into one more, gentle kiss. "I love you, Dean… I- love…"

Dean swallowed his words, desperate. It was as if the fire of the kiss were fading as he held it in his hands, dimming to nothing. The last flicker of his soul lit that kiss brighter than the sun itself, and just like that… it was gone.

Dean felt his lover's life force simply vanish, right there in his arms, in that kiss. He froze, not daring to believe it. "Cas…" he whispered, pulling back slightly. The once mystical blue orbs were shut off from the world, his face a mask of sheer calm. Each muscle wound down to nothing, the ex-angel limp in his arms. Gone. Castiel was gone.

Dean's breath quaked in his chest, tears flowing freely. He pressed one kiss to the cold forehead, then one to pale lips, before nesting him against his chest. He opened his mouth, and lulled Castiel into his eternal slumber:

_Fly me up__  
__To where you are__  
__Beyond the distant star__  
__I wish upon tonight__  
__To see you smile__  
__If only for awhile__  
__To know you're there__  
__A breath away's not far__  
__To where you are_

_I know you're there__  
__A breath away's not far__  
__To where you are_

And as Dean sang the last line for Cas, his voice cracked as he broke into sobs, cradling him close. Somewhere in the heavens, the brightest of stars dimmed before disappearing from the skies.


	5. Chapter 5

EPILOGUE

THIRTY YEARS LATER

Dean wandered into the living room of his home, sitting down painfully on the couch. Years of hunting had finally paid its toll on his aging body, arthritis settling in his hips, knees; anywhere the painful inflammation could reach. He settled into the cushions, staring at the coffee table in front of him blankly.

There sat the memory books, well worn from daily use. Daily use, fingerprints rubbed into the paper, yellowed pages cradling each photo sitting in their slots. Dean diligently made sure, each and every day that those photos were well taken care of, that not one picture was out of place.

Those pictures were Dean's life, ever since Castiel's death thirty years prior. The day his lover had died, Dean cloistered himself into a solitary life; barely leaving his home other than to work. His only friends became the whiskey bottle, the photo albums and his brother, who stopped by nearly every day to check on the grieving man.

Sam had expressed worry for Dean's sake. Knowing how badly he was suffering from the loss bolstered his concern, especially considering his hermit-like behavior ever since.

Now, it just seemed like a monotony of daily sorrow, Dean never fully getting over the death. Sam's visits became less frequent, but he still called daily to check up on him. Those instances seemed to comfort Dean somewhat, but always within moments of these mental reprieves, he'd slip back into his bouts of depression.

Just as he had now. Dean leaned over and grabbed the photo albums, flipping open the first page. There right underneath the photo of their home, was a picture of Cas, eyes bright, a brilliant smile flashed across his happy face, and around his shoulders was Dean's own arm, cuddling up to him. Dean sniffed slightly, running his fingertips reverently over the image before flipping slowly through the pages, soaking up each and every image.

"Cas… dammit, Cas I miss you so much…" he whispered, his age-worn voice cracking slightly in mourning. He took a quaking breath before continuing on in his ritual of daily reflection.

After awhile, Dean felt his eyes grow heavy with weariness, and he leaned back into the cushions of the couch, the book spread open in his lap. He'd doze for just a few moments, he told himself, closing his eyes. He breathed slowly, feeling himself slipping further into slumber.

As he drifted off, he felt gentle hands run down the side of his face, fingertips brushing his jaw. Dean groaned slightly, shifting. "Cas…" he muttered, settling further. It was so strange. This was the most relaxed he had felt in years.

Suddenly, Dean heard a slight chuckle and his eyes opened. But instead of seeing the blank, white ceiling above him as he always did, a familiar pair of blue eyes smiled down at him. Dean's eyes widened slightly. Cas was sitting on his lap, looking not a day older than he did when he had passed on; he wore only a pair of white trousers, his upper body exposed. But instead of the sickly, yellowed Cas Dean last remembered, he was beautiful, healthy, and very much happy.

Cas beamed back at the shocked older version of his lover, leaning in to press a kiss to the slack lips.

"I'm dreaming…" Dean gasped, reaching up. His hands hovered over his lover's shoulders, as if he touched him his hands would go right through him.

Cas chuckled, reaching up. He grabbed Dean's hands and placed them on his own waist, letting the elderly man feel him for the first time in thirty years. "If you want it to be a dream, then yes… you are."

Dean smiled, leaning up slightly. "Then it's a good dream… Cas I missed you. You have no idea…"

Cas silenced him, pressing a finger to his chapped lips. "I know everything you went through… I've watched over you since then. But… but now I had to come see you. I just couldn't bear it anymore. Dean… I'm so sorry I abandoned you." He added quietly, leaning forward to press his forehead to Dean's.

The aging hunter smiled, wrapping his arms tiredly around his now young lover's waist. "I'm alright now. Even if this is just until I wake up…"

Cas shivered, feeling Dean's fingertips running over his bare back. The light touches brought forth a sight Dean never expected to see again in a million years; from his partner's back spread the elegant black wings that he had lost in the fight so many years before, silky, gleaming feathers shining in the low lights of the room around them.

Dean's eyes widened again, as he ran his fingers through the sensitive, downy feathers at the base of each wing. "You got your wings back…" he breathed.

Cas laughed, the sensations shuddering through his body. "Let's just say Heaven had a massive over-haul in management."

Dean laughs, cradling the younger man into his arms. "I'm so happy for you… I really am." He smiled, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

Cas smiled gently, seeing the saddened look in his eyes. "I know… I have to go back soon."

Dean gripped his shoulders a little more firmly, eyes pleading. "Please stay…" he begged quietly, pulling him closer.

Cas sighed, pressing into the kiss Dean initiated. It was as if a fire lit within them, years of separation burning away to nothing more than a distant memory. The two locked together once again, fingers grappling, tongues dancing in a heated passion that neither wanted to end.

After what seemed like eternity, the two broke apart, noses bumping wearily. Dean sighed, gently fingering Cas' lower lip before pressing a kiss to each of his eyes. "I guess you should go…"

Cas nodded, opening his eyes once again. But instead of sadness, a mischievous light flared slightly in the deep blue irises. "Dean… come with me."

The aged hunter only looked confused. "But… how…"

Cas smiled and put two fingers to Dean's forehead. "Come with me, Dean. I don't want to be alone for eternity either. Come home."

Dean sighed. "I will eventually… but… this is just a dream, Cas. I'll wake up in the morning, and everything will just go back to normal. But… I hope that when I do eventually pass, you'll be there waiting."

Cas laughed, pulling Dean to his feet. "Of course, Dean…" he whispered, turning the man around.

Dean's eyes widened; before him stretched the serene expanse of the Redwoods, mountainous terrain in the background. The pains of his arthritis gave way to calm, his age dwindling back to his youth when the two were at the peak of their relationship. The now young Dean laughed, feeling Castiel's arms wrap around his waist, wings enveloping him gently. "Hell of a dream here, Cas. Thanks for this."

Cas smiled pressing a soft kiss to the nape of Dean's neck, the two standing together in this world between worlds. "I love you, Dean."

* * *

"It looks like it was a silent heart attack, Mr. Winchester. He went in his sleep." The coroner said, standing by the surviving brother. Sam nodded, rubbing his face tiredly.

Sam had come to check on Dean that night, his daughter following to help her uncle prepare dinner as she did every week. His depression had not been unknown on the family, weighing heavily on Sam especially. It was hard to watch his older brother succumb to his own emotions every day, so they did what they could to help.

Now, Sam sat in the waiting room, head in his hands as he listened to the doctor speaking. He and Kristin had found Dean on the couch when they had arrived, the photo album lying in his cold hands. At first the two had feared he had taken his own life, but upon inspection found this not to be the case.

After a few moments, the coroner placed a hand on his shoulder, smiling gently at him. "We will bring you his affects, Mr. Winchester." He said quietly, leaving the room.

Kristin leaned against her father's shoulder, crying quietly. It was to be expected, but it still didn't lessen the blow. She nuzzled into her father's embrace as the two waited for the assistant to bring Dean's possessions to them. Sam prayed that what the coroner said was true, and that Dean went quietly. He didn't need any more pain in his final hours.

Sam looked up when the door finally opened again, nodding to the assistant coroner as Kristin sat up, rubbing the tears from her eyes. There weren't many items.

As Kristin packed them into a small bag, the assistant paused, looking a bit hesitant at the last item in the bin. Sam cocked his head to the side, staring at her confounded expression.

"What is it?" Sam asked finally, breaking the woman from her revere.

The assistant looked up, smiling slightly. "Oh it's just the last item. Quite peculiar, but this… this was clutched in his hand when he checked him over. I'm not sure what sort of significance he held for it, but… we figured we'd better just give it to you." She said, holding the last item up.

Sam's eyes locked on it for a moment before tears welled in his eyes. A relieved, utterly glorious laugh broke from him at the sight, the other two watching him confused. It was then that Sam knew everything was alright. "Thank you…" he breathed, glancing up at the ceiling. "Thank you…"

In the assistant's hand was one, solitary black feather.


End file.
